Heart's Ease
by Lilybet
Summary: Sixth Year AU. When her potion is switched, Hermione is faced with the prospect of acting as if she is in love with a Slytherin while trying to find out who the culprit is. Her only help? Severus Snape!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

Summary: When her potion is switched, Hermione is faced with the prospect of acting as if she is in love with a Slytherin while trying to find out who the culprit is. Her only help? Severus Snape!

**Heart's Ease**

_There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,_

_Lull's in these flower with dances and delight;_

_And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,_

_Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:_

_And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,_

_And make her full of hateful fantasies._

_A Midsummer's Night's Dream, Act Two, Scene One._

"Do you know what heartease is used for Miss Granger?" asked Snape silkily.

"Yes, sir. it's used in lovepotions and their antidotes, as the primary inducer. More commonly known as the pansy, undiluted heartsease will make the drinker fall in love with the very next person they see," Hermione rattled off, sounding, as usual, like she'd swallowed several textbooks.

"Then why, may I ask, are you taking it?" Snape said, a note of sharpness in his voice as he drew a small blue bottle from his robes.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She'd been searching for that little bottle for the past few days, growing steadily more desperate to lay her hands on it as time passed. She uttered a tiny sigh of relief now that it was found. Then she frowned, her inimitable mind putting together the professor's question with his ownership of the bottle. A blush grew from her neck as she said, "That's not- that's not heartsease professor. It's...it's a potion for, um, problems of a female nature."

In the gloomy dungeon office Hermione couldn't see the flush that flickered for a second on Snape's face. Instead he just smoothly corrected her, "Miss Granger I am the potions professor of this school. I know the shade and smell of most potions without having to consult a book. Are you presuming to question my authority in this matter? This bottle contains heartsease diluted with lime blossom and witch-hazel. It is not a remedy for any - female problems."

"Goodness," exclaimed Hermione, "Well I don't know how that got there, sir."

Snape raised a thin eyebrow and questioned, "When did you last identify the solution?"

"I, um, used it a couple of days ago. Then I must have lost it, because I've been searching for it ever since."

"Lost?" Snape paused, his eyes going slightly distant before they pierced Hermione with a striking look. "When exactly did you lose this bottle?" he asked.

"You can't know when you've lost something, sir," Hermione said pedantically, before quailing slightly under the stare, "I definitely had it three days ago."

"I discovered it on a table in the library next to the runes section. Where was it supposed to be?"

"In my bag."

The stare grew more intense as Snape placed the small blue bottle on his desk. "Has anything... untoward occurred between then and now?"

"Not really. We had a surprise test in transfiguration, Harry had another fight with Malfoy; Hagrid's latest... project escaped again-" Hermione stopped suddenly as Snape held up a potion stained hand.

"Potter got into a fight with Mr Malfoy?' he asked, a note of snideness in his voice.

"Yes. I tried to stop him but-"

"Who else was there?"

"Ron and Neville-"

"Not on Potter's side," Snape said, a sneer curling his lip, "On Mr Malfoy's."

"Oh. Um. Crabbe and Goyle, obviously. And Parkinson, though she mainly stayed out of it," Hermione frowned, and said hurriedly, "Oh, Professor, you don't think one of them took it do you? switched out the potion? But why would they do that?"

Briefly closing his eyes against the onslaught of questions, Professor Snape tried not to strangle the girl. Curiosity was excellent, enthusiasm was wonderful, but together with her desperate intelligence they made a dangerous combination. "Miss Granger," he said with a perfectly raised eyebrow, "Do you remember what happened last year? There are now a great many individuals in the magical world who would wish you harm, you and your friends."

"You're referring to the house elves, aren't you sir? I was right to do it. They were slaves, and slavery has been outlawed in Britain for decades, it's a barbaric institution which needed to be stopped-"

"And stop it you did. Without thinking you charged into the ministry, located the ancient enchantments, and destroyed them. You did not consider the consequences of your actions-"

"Oh but I did!"

"Silence! You did not consider the ramifications beyond your objective. There are a great many families who have relied upon the house elf network for generations, and now you have removed that system without so much as a by-your-leave. Naturally a percentage of them are less than pleased with your high handed attitude; particularly because you are new to the wizarding world," Snape concluded, looming over Hermione who swallowed and looked down.

It was true, she hadn't thought beyond getting rid of that awful system. And she'd wilfully dragged her friends along with her. She sniffed slightly, the damp of the dungeons affecting her nose.

Snape turned away, allowing a flicker of a smile on his face. "I do not say that I disagree with your intentions," he said quietly, "It is merely your busybody attitude that is mildly reprehensible. Nevertheless..." He reached out and selected a small bottle off his numerous shelves, turning to compare it with the one on his desk as he continued to speak, "I will assist you in identifying the perpetrator of this potion switch, as much for the school's sake as your own. As such..." Snape pointed his wand at the uncorked bottle he'd selected and murmured a colour changing charm. The clear glass flickered through the spectrum for a second and then settled into an azure blue. Snape hmmed and inspected the two bottles - they were now, save for the contents and lack of cork, identical. Ignoring Hermione's growing fidgets, he turned back to the shelves and asked over his shoulder, "What is the name of the potion Madam Pomfrey is giving you?"

"Quattuor substantia decoctum," Hermione whispered, quite mortified.

"Undiluted?"

"Yes."

Snape looked through his bottled and jarred potions, shifting the larger containers to see those behind. Finally he pulled a thin green triangular bottle off one of the bottom shelves and poured some of the solution into his incanted blue bottle. Corking it neatly, Snape handed the bottle to Hermione and raised his eyebrow again.

"I take it you have read about the effects of this potion," he said, waving a long hand at the original small bottle still perched on his desk. When she nodded, he went on, "Did you cover the changes caused by the addition of lime blossom and witch hazel?"

"I - no," Hermione admitted, clutching the bottle.

"Not as much of a know-it-all as is vaunted by your test results," Snape mocked, before picking a large volume out of one of the piles which littered the room. He eased it open and flicked through to the correct page, holding it out to her.

Gently she took the book, her eyes already racing over the words.

"You will need to simulate that potion's effect precisely if this plan is to be effective," Snape warned.

"Plan, sir?" Hermione said, not lifting her eyes from the book.

"In order to catch the culprit you will return to the place where I found that potion, 'discover' it, and continue with your normal behaviour patterns. At some point you will take the potion, enact the behaviours that the heartsease potion causes, and see to whom it leads," Snape said, wondering how this girl could possibly be the smartest witch of her age.

"Isn't that...rather dangerous?" Hermione questioned uncertainly, meeting Snape's black eyes in a daring move.

"Sometimes in order to catch the spider one must play the fly," Snape said enigmatically.

"Right. Of course," Hermione nodded, and closed the book, handing it back. Snape raised that eyebrow at her and she clarified, "I can speed read, sir."

"A handy skill," he allowed, accepting the book back.

Hermione turned to leave the room, but as she placed her hand on the iron ring she look back and asked, "What will you do with that?" indicating the heartsease potion.

"I will dispose of it safely," Snape said, as if the question was totally unnecessary.

"Right," she said.

When she didn't move he coughed lightly and said to the wall, "I will keep an eye on things, naturally."

"Naturally," she murmured, and left.

As she closed the door behind her and set out for the library, Hermione took a deep breath. Never in all her years at Hogwarts had she been so mortified and astounded and... It was bad enough that she'd lost the potion, and that a professor had found it. but for Professor SNAPE to find it! And then for him to turn around and be willing to help her, after everything. He hated Harry, and by extension everyone around him. For Professor Snape to help her was like a hyena inviting you for lunch. Yet somehow she trusted him, or at least trusted that he wouldn't lead her wrong.

The library was quiet, just as she liked, and she swiftly made her way to the runes section where she could normally be found. Here there was a little one person table next to a beautiful stained glass window depicting one of the numerous famous wizards. She would often come here, not to study, but simply to sit and relax with a good book or some music. It was no wonder that the switcher had targeted this place as a suitable site to leave her missing potion bottle.

Settling herself down, Hermione pulled out her charms text and promptly 'discovered' the bottle under the table.

"Oh! There you are! Now where have you been?" she exclaimed a little louder than usual.

Swiftly she looked around and ascertained that Madam Pince was no where to be found. Then she committed a small crime by conjuring a goblet and filling it with water. She uncorked the false bottle and dropped two drops of her potion into it. Then she drank.

As she swallowed the bitter tasting water Hermione ran through the symptoms of the altered heartsease potion in her mind. First she would feel drowsy, then she would fall asleep for a time. Next, on awakening, the very first person she saw she would fall in love with. Not just love, she blushed, fervent passion, even...lust. Gradually the potion would have more and more effect on her until, after a period of twenty four hours, she would be unable to keep her hands off the...individual. With the addition of witch hazel no incantation would be able to free her. She would be bound to love that individual and want to, uh hum, with him, until such time that she was given the antidote. If she ever was.

This was, of course, if she was actually taking the potion. She set the goblet back down, and mentally thanked Professor Snape for finding the bottle before her. Now she was simply free of female problems, rather than trapped under a terrible enchantment.

Remembering Snape's words about 'normal behaviour', Hermione opened her textbook, got out her quill and parchment and began taking notes. After a while she started feigning tiredness, yawning and stretching. Then she leaned her head on her hand, nodding slightly, finally slipping off her hand and slumping over her books.

Every sense was on high alert as she waited patiently, but she still didn't hear the person approach until they whispered, "Granger?"

The someone poked her shoulder, then said louder, "Granger?"

She decided to moan slightly, allowing the person to repeat their poking. Then she turned her head, reached a hand to her neck and sat up.

"Oh, hello," she said normally, then she put a lot more breathlessness into it as 'the potion' took hold, "Oh, hello! What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

**Heart's Ease**

_All the world's a stage,_

_And all the men and women merely players:_

_They have their exits and their entrances;_

_And one man in his time plays many parts_

_..._

_the lover,_

_Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad_

_Made to his mistress' eyebrow._

_As You Like It, Act Two, Scene Seven._

Hermione looked up at the unfamiliar figure who had poked her from her feigned sleep and said, "Oh. Hello." Then she recalled exactly what she was supposed to be doing and said it again, this time as if she had seen a vision of loveliness where none had been before. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Looking for you of course," replied Theodore Nott, sounding a little flustered and put out.

"Looking for me?" questioned Hermione, putting her hand to her chest and hoping she looked delighted.

Theodore frowned, green and silver tie slightly askew, and said hurriedly, "Yes. Look, Granger-"

"Hermione," she interrupted, twitching as if to put a hand out to him, "Please, call me Hermione."

"Right. Okay. Listen, have you-" Theodore tried again.

But Hermione was supposedly under the effects of the altered Heartsease Potion and that left little time for listening to anyone.

"Theodore - I can call you Theodore can't I? Theodore-" Hermione paused for a fraction of a second, thinking fast. What sort of things did a girl say when she was totally infatuated? Her mind flashed to Lavender Brown simpering over Ron, and she swiftly recovered her flow, "Have you been working out lately? You look...different...handsome."

Nott flushed lightly at the compliment and tried to continue his question, though the sinking feeling in his stomach had already warned him of the futile nature of asking. Hermione stood, apparently debating whether to test his honed muscles, when she blinked rapidly and shook her head. Nott saw a look of disturbed horror creep into her eyes and he knew he really didn't need to ask.

"Sorry, I, er, need to, um, meet with Rarry, I mean Hon, er..." Hermione gabbled in a believable manner, stuffing her quills in her bag and scooping up her books. Though she rushed out of the cosy corner the Potion that was clearly flowing through her veins forced a longing look back at the first person she'd seen on awaking.

"Ah," Nott muttered, and stalked off in the opposite direction.

-HG-

Hermione debated telling Harry and Ron about the Potion switch and Snape's plan before lunch, but finally decided that her performance had to be totally believable. And as much as she loved those boys, neither of them could act to save their life. So instead she sighed and moped around the common room until the lunch bell rang. Then she went down with the two apparently blind boys and carefully selected a seat from which she could watch Theodore eat.

She wasn't totally happy about this stalking idea, but as far as she was aware it was the best way to show how besotted she was. Of course this was just the beginning; as the potion 'progressed' through her system she would be able to fight it less and less, eventually becoming unable to do anything except... well, Hermione wasn't going there. Hopefully Nott would let slip some proof that he was the architect of the plan before she was forced to do anything unsavoury.

She had kissed boys on the cheek before, of course. Well, one boy. Victor Krum, Triwizard Champion. Things might have gone further with him, but then he'd had to leave and they'd never seen each other again. Hermione had kept in contact, writing him letters, but then things in her day-to-day life overwhelmed her, especially last year, and even the writing had fizzled. So, she had some experience. Sort of. Which left her stalking Nott like a slightly crazy person, hoping against hope that things wouldn't go further than she felt comfortable with.

If anyone noticed her near continuous staring at Theodore Nott no-one mentioned it. Although this meant that she wouldn't have to suffer the ridicule of her housemates, it did make Hermione feel a little isolated. Not even her best friends commented on her fixation with the Slytherin table - too busy stuffing their faces and talking Quidditch.

Lunch came to its usual end and Hermione followed Nott out of the hall and into the entrance way. She let him wander ahead, half burying her head in one of the many books she always had with her, while keeping an eye on him. She was about to step outside when she noticed a blond haired figure accost Nott. She paused and hid slightly behind the half-open doors. If only she could hear what they were saying.

In the early spring sunlight it looked as though they were having a terse argument. Malfoy - so easily identifiable - was gesturing back towards the Great Hall, and poking Nott in the chest. For his part, Theodore was looking annoyed and contradictory.

"Miss Granger," said a soft laconic voice behind her.

Hermione jumped slightly, and turned to face Professor Snape, "Sir," she gasped.

"You will not discover anything by lurking in dark corners. Sashay over there and listen closely," Snape advised, though it sounded more like an order.

"Sashay?" Hermione choked.

Snape simply raised an eyebrow and made to leave, before commenting, "He is a fascinating book you have not read."

With that seeming enigma he departed, billowing his way down the dungeon passage. Hermione muttered something contrary under her breath, gathered her courage and walked over to the arguing boys.

"-not my idea-" snapped Nott.

"-but you will...Granger...things I know..." Malfoy said, almost inaudible as Hermione approached.

She clutched her books tight and began pasting a simpering expression on her face as she got close enough for them to notice her. Malfoy looked at her with his usual expression of revulsion and gave Nott a final hard look before sneering and walking away. Nott deflated a little and turned to face Hermione.

"Granger," he acknowledged wearily.

Something in his expression spoke to Hermione then; an indefinable air of long being put upon by those who thought themselves better, and she suddenly realised what Snape had been speaking of. She was Hermione Granger, not Lav-Lav, and she shouldn't be treating this boy as an object, but as an unread tome, a well-reviewed book. Her face softened from its frightful simper and return to her own well-worn curiosity.

"What did he want?" she asked, not needing to fake the venom in her voice.

"Malfoy? Oh, nothing. The usual," Theodore shrugged.

"I would have thought he'd be, well, polite with his fellow Slytherins," Hermione commented, shifting her books to her other arm and shuffling closer to him.

Nott laughed sharply before sobering quickly and shaking his head, "Let's not talk about him," he said smiling endearingly.

"Okay," she agreed, no longer needing to wonder what to do now she was acting like herself, "Would, would you like to study with me? I mean, I don't know what subjects you're taking but-"

"I'm sure we can find something in common," he said and took the pile of books from her arms, "There's an excellent little spot by the lake, if that's suitable?"

"Sure," Hermione said, smiling.

It was a fair while later when Hermione dropped off her books in her room. The 'study session' with Nott had gone well. She felt she had got across her enamoured state, questioning him about everything she could think of, occasionally touching his arm, and finally giving him a daring kiss before racing off. Even thinking about it she struggled not to blush, telling herself that there would probably be worse to come before this was over.

If she didn't know that the whole thing was a plot, dependent on her acting lovestruck, then she would have thought that Theodore Nott was a fairly decent bloke - for a Slytherin. He could be charming and conscientious when he put his mind to it, and the common disagreeable prejudice had seemed to be put aside. Yet there was still an occasional flicker in his eyes, not of hatred but of humour. As if he were laughing at the silly Muggleborn who'd tried to take on the Magical World.

Nevertheless she was meeting with him after dinner, ostensibly for a walk around Hogwarts, but more likely for something else. It had been several hours since she had 'taken' the altered Heartsease Potion, and by now she should be dying to, er, make out with him. Hermione shuddered lightly, and walked back down the stairs to the common room.

Harry and Ron were waiting for her with uncomfortable looks on their faces. Hermione sighed and waved them towards the portrait hole; if they were going to have this conversation then she would at least have it being mildly productive. They nodded almost simultaneously and fell into step with her.

"Hermione," ventured Ron, "Is everything, y'know, alright?"

"Yes Ron, everything's fine," she said, thinking that yes everything was fine, if you failed to count the evil potion switch, the terrible need to act, and the horrible boy she was having to act to, not to mention the fact that she was taking suggestions from Snape.

"It's just, you've seemed a little... distracted today," Harry said from her other side.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes and commend him on his attention to detail, Hermione said, "I've been working on my essays. Like you should have been."

"Yeah. Er. Working with who?" Ron said, clearly trying to be casual.

"Whom. No-one," she corrected absently.

"Is that no-one no-one, or no-one in particular no-one?" Harry asked, being particularly insightful.

"Have you done that Charms essay?" Hermione asked, trying to avoid the question, "It's due on-"

"Hermione," Ron said, stopping her in an empty patch of hall, "We saw you with that Slytherin."

Hermione looked from one very concerned and slightly angry (on Ron's score) face to the other, and sighed. She had to make this real. If neither boy confronted the Slytherins then they might begin to suspect that she hadn't taken the potion after all.

"We're working on a research project," she said, making sure to put the right amount of nervousness in her voice. "For ancient runes."

"Uh huh. That doesn't explain your behaviour," Ron said, the anger growing.

"My...behaviour?"

"You were all over him," Harry said, and somehow the disappointment in his voice was worse than the anger in Ron's.

"Hermione," Ron grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look straight at him, "He's a Slytherin."

"I know that, thank you Ron," she said, pulling herself out of his grasp and walking off towards the Great Hall.

"So why are you...hanging out with him?" Harry pressed.

"He's a stinking Slytherin and - don't tell me you actually fancy him?" Ron shook with righteous anger.

"I know what he is, and what's it to you if I do? It's not like either of you have ever taken an interest!" Hermione turned, blazing. "_You're a girl Hermione_," she mimicked Ron's query from two years ago and the boys' hunt for dates to the Yule Ball. "Well I am a girl, and he's a nice, intelligent, thoughtful, MAN. Not that you'd understand any of that, because you can't see past the colour of his tie!"

As she walked off in high dudgeon, she heard Ron shout, "It's not the colour of his tie I care about!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

**Heart's Ease**

_I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,_

_To punish me with this and this with me,_

_..._

_I must be cruel, only to be kind:_

_Thus bad begins and worse remains behind._

_Hamlet, Act Three, Scene Four._

After the argument dinner went smoothly, with Hermione sat at one end of the table, eating slowly and staring at Nott every few minutes, and Harry and Ron muttering at the other end. Ginny, who knew nothing about the situation, was forced to listen to her brother's version of events, and consequently shot disturbed looks at Hermione.

She was glad when the meal was finally over. Yet as she got up from the table a part of her was wishing that she could just sit back down and pretend the entire day had never happened.

Theodore was waiting for her in the fourth floor alcove like they had arranged. He smiled perfectly nicely at her and offered his arm as they began their stroll around the notable paintings of Hogwarts. Hermione, having read _Hogwarts: A History_ half a dozen times, knew something about the various denizens of the painted world, but it turned out that a Pureblood's upbringing far outstripped her dives into wizarding history.

Though she recognised as many of the portraits as he, Theodore had little stories, anecdotes, about some of them that wouldn't be found in any books.

"Giuseppe Borri - 17th Century. He experimented with mercury in potions and had a bad habit of testing them all on himself. Eventually the mercury built up in his system and sent him mad - he believed he was a prophet and herald of a new era," Nott said gesturing to a pompous fellow who looked down his nose at the pair. Hermione had trouble not laughing at his blue striped breeches.

They moved on, and Hermione tugged Theodore over to a beautiful scene in which happy couples froliked in summer meadows. Playing her role she sighed and said, "Isn't love wonderful?" She looked up with adoring eyes at the dark haired Nott, who was nodding in a slightly cynical fashion.

"Wonderful," he muttered.

The halls seemed remarkably empty, something Hermione attributed to the sunshine still pouring down outside, but that was all to the good. "Theodore," she said in her most winning voice, "What did Malfoy want with you earlier?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing, if you don't mind me saying," she pressed, pouting a little at not getting a response (and feeling a little silly as she did).

"He's just...making sure we're all...doing what we're supposed to. Say, have you seen the portrait of Wendolen the Wierd?" Nott brushed off her question.

"Yes," she snapped, before smiling up at him, "She's awfully pushy for people to notice her."

"Ah, yes, I suppose so."

Hermione tugged at a strand of her hair, just as she always did when there was a puzzle she couldn't solve. She had to get him to tell her what was going on without having him realise she knew what was going on. Maybe it was time to step up the potion's 'effects'.

"Isn't the picture with the dancing toad around here?" she questioned, looking round to figure out exactly where the little side corridor was in relation to them.

"What dancing toad?" Nott asked politely, looking confused.

"The dancing toad," Hermione said, absently picking out the features of a toad with her hands. "Yes, it's this way." She pulled him off down a corridor to where a long tapestry took up most of the east wall. Somewhere in the middle of the long tapestry, Hermione reached out and traced a long sinuous vine. A small bobble emerged under her fingers and she drew back the vine to reveal the side corridor. She beckoned Theodore in behind her, swallowing nervously as she did.

There, behind the tapestry, was a small connecting passage with stairs going down round a corner at one end, and a random painting hanging on one wall at the other. Nott laughed at the image, a short sound which dropped dead in the heavy material cutting off most of the light. The brown and green speckled toad smiled a wide grin and doffed its black top hat. With a cane in one hand and patent leather shoes it was quite the sight. It was also quite the dancer, tapping away on the boards of a jetty.

"I knew it was here somewhere," pronounced Hermione.

"Ha! Go figure. I never knew toads could dance," Nott replied, a totally relaxed smile on his face.

Hermione leaned into his arm and looked up at him, licking her lips just slightly as he looked down. "I'm so glad you like him," she said in almost a purr.

"Hermione-" Nott started, but she had decided to let the potion do her talking and she lifted her fingers to lay them on his surprisingly soft lips.

"It's perfect here, don't you think?" she whispered, leaning in.

-HG-

Severus Snape stifled the sneeze that had been growing and muttered about useless caretakers as he slipped up the stairs. While all the dear little students were out playing in the sunshine he could finally get a moment to himself in the library. It wouldn't do for them to see their terrifying Potions Professor looking something up in the library, but there were times when even he had to double check that the book he wanted to assign hadn't vanished overnight. And ever since an overdue loan in his early teaching days Snape had been a little unnerved by Madam Pince.

The muffled sound of voices brought his attention sharply to the present and he slowed his pace to a crawl. Two layabout students no doubt, using their study time to study things of a less academic nature. Fools and imbeciles, there would be plenty of time-

"Oh Theodore!"

He knew that voice. Quickly he cast a little periscope spell that would allow him to see round corners. For a second he thought he'd cast it wrong. There was Hermione Granger, goody-two-shoes, head thrown back, a boy latched to her neck. She looked totally abandoned. Snape stared, caught in the sight for a long second, before he shook himself and regained his thought processes.

So, she had finally used the wiles she naturally possessed. About time. He had watched during lunch and dinner with disdain as she shot what were supposed to be loving looks across the hall. Still, Snape thought, shifting slightly, this was not quite what he had expected. Really it was his duty to disrupt this display of decadence. It would only be in keeping with his role. He could hardly walk away from this, knowing that this disruption would continue. Yes. He was just going to fulfil his role as infamous dungeon bat. Nothing to do with stopping those sighs.

Snape billowed round the corner, face set in a scowl, and took no delight whatsoever in the way the two popped apart and turned scarlet. He shot them both his foulest glare and practically hissed, "Ten points from Gryffindor and... Slytherin."

"Professor!" gasped Hermione, while Nott's eyes just widened. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. The Professor taking points from his own house?

"For unseemly behaviour."

"But Professor-" Hermione protested, trying to indicate a what-the-hell attitude with her eyes.

He seared her with a glance and spat out, "Detention, Miss Granger," then he turned to Nott and raised a laconic eyebrow, "Are you still here?"

"No sir," Nott said, shooting Hermione a sole glance before scarpering.

Snape turned and headed back down the stairs, saying over his shoulder, "Now, Miss Granger."

-HG-

In Snape's office Hermione stood stifly, thinking that the situation was really going from bad to worse. Not that the kissing had been bad, far from it. She had never known, nor cared to know, what Lavender and Pavarti were blithering on about when they talked late at night; but now? She knew now that all that talk about how good a kisser he was, whether it was wet, or that he had wandering hands, all of it suddenly made some sense. Of course you, that is they, would want to talk about this...thing...you had to analyse it, make sure you were getting the best deal, the right answers. Really all that talk about 'was he a good kisser' was just like her asking 'what did you get on question nine'.

"I see things are proceeding apace," Snape said, snapping her back to reality.

"Er," said Hermione, sounding a lot like Harry at his most inarticulate.

"Have you isolated the culprit yet, or have you been otherwise engaged?" he sneered, hovering over her in the most disconcerting manner.

"It's not Nott," Hermione blurted, blushing as she wondered exactly what he had seen, or heaven forfend, heard.

"Very helpful," Snape said snidely, "You have successfully narrowed the field by one person. At this rate you should be done by the time you graduate."

"But, but," Hermione stuttered; this really wasn't fair. Just as she'd got up her Gryffindor courage to accost Nott and, um, seduce information out of him, Snape comes along and disrupts her.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, with a slightly odd look in his eye, "I realise that you, as a Gryffindor, are not greatly acquainted with the idea of subtlety, but might I remind you that you are on a deadline, and that you need to learn quickly."

"Deadline? Sir?" Hermione frowned.

Snape sighed and pulled that tome from his shelves again, saying, "Did you not read this completely, Miss Granger? Is your reading so dedicated to speed that you ignore content? Or are you deliberately making things difficult for yourself? Here. Look. Shall I read it to you? _'When Witch Hazel is added to a concoction of Heartsease look for numerous consequences. For the first, no incantation in the Latin tongue nor in the Greek will counter the inducements which the drinker is placed under. For the second, look to the time; four and twenty hours must pass between drinking, lest the drinker doth come to untimely end.'_ Is that clear enough, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded mutely, uncertain of what to say.

"Are you certain?" he pressed.

"Yes sir," she croaked, "I have until eleven tomorrow to solve this problem otherwise they - whoever they are - will know I've been..."

"Lying," he finished, snapping the book closed. Returning it to its rightful place, Snape glanced over his shoulder at her; gone was the rampantly amorous young woman who he had seen in the dusty passage, replaced instead by someone shrunken in on themselves with heavy realisation. Briefly Snape wished that he could get every student to look like that in his class - then maybe there wouldn't be so many accidents. He frowned as he turned back to her, because somewhere deep inside he had the desire to wipe that pitiful look off her face and replace it with the all too familiar curiosity she normally wore.

"Miss Granger, though you are adequately fulfilling your role I suggest you - what's the American Muggle expression? - step up to the plate. You must discover who is behind this switch, or you will undoubtedly be walking into some form of danger. Not that that isn't usual for you," Snape sighed in a much put upon manner.

"Sir? Couldn't you, um, just ask Malfoy and the others if they're behind it?" Hermione questioned, trying not to squeak at the end of her sentence as Snape gave her yet another of his nasty looks.

"What do you think he would say if I asked him?"

"'I had nothing to do with it,'" Hermione sighed; yes that was the most likely thing. Malfoy and his crew would lie. It was a little bit of a shame Veritaserum was illegal to use on students.

"Now," Snape said, holding open the door, "Find your beau!"

"Um?"

"What?"

"What about the detention, sir?" Hermione asked in trepidation.

Snape gave her a half-blank look, as if despairing at her goodness, before saying with a touch of smugness, "Six feet on protection charms. All types."

Then the door was closed in her face, leaving Hermione blinking and slightly gobsmacked. Protection charms? All types, what did he mean, all...oh. Oh.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

**Heart's Ease**

_I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:_

_The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,_

_And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;_

_For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring._

_Romeo and Juliet, Act Three, Scene One._

Hermione trawled through the corridors, wondering where a plotting Slytherin would hide. Now she knew about the deadline she was even more determined to do what ever it took to extract the name of the culprit from the unknowing Nott. Scowling vociferously at an innocence door she made her way round the quadrangle to where the currently empty Senior rooms lay. In times past these rooms were each shared by two older students for studying, but the practice had vanished as the numbers of wizards fell. Now they lay empty, ripe for plotting, assignations, or both.

Grimly she peaked into another empty and dust filled room, before her sharp ears picked up a familiar whining voice. Nearly on tiptoe Hermione shuffled closer to the almost closed door and listened carefully.

"Will you stop writing for a moment and listen to me?" the voice, now clearly recognisable as Pansy Parkinson, said.

"No," replied a male voice.

"But, Draco, how do we know that she's taken it? She might be faking," Pansy whined.

"Shut up Pansy," Draco Malfoy said distantly.

"Draco..."

"Shut up. Just...Can't you see I'm trying to write here?" Malfoy said, now sounding like he'd been putting up with Pansy's whinging for far too long. Briefly Hermione wondered why he put up with it at all.

"Yes, of course, but why?"

"Because she has taken it, she's not faking, and our benefactor needs to know this. Now be a good girl and shut the hell up," Malfoy ground out.

"She could be faking," Pansy muttered.

"She's not," came a very familiar voice. Theodore Nott.

Pansy cackled - really there was no other word for it - and purred, "Poor poor Theo, having to pet a filthy mudblood. Don't worry darling, Pansy'll make it up to you."

"Get off, Pansy," Nott said, clearly extracting himself from Pansy's dubious charms. As he turned away from the zealous girl Hermione pulled back from the gap between door and wall, trying not to be seen. But clearly her movement was enough, for Nott strode over to the door and pulled it open.

In an instant Hermione's expression morphed into one of longing relief, and she said, "Oh Theodore, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Hermione?" Nott said sharply, and Pansy peered over his shoulder, a look of curdled glee on her face.

Hermione took his hand in hers and said, a little pathetically, "I want to apologise, if I'd known that Snape was there I wouldn't have... Can you forgive me?"

"Look who it is. It's the little mudblood," Pansy sneered over her shoulder to Malfoy.

"Fascinating," came the languid reply.

Hermione's face froze at Pansy, and she shot her nastiest glare - the one she usually reserved for people who wrote in books - at the annoying Slytherin. Then she turned back to Nott with an adoringly hopeful look in her eyes. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

Giving his own hateful look at Pansy, Theodore nodded. But as he was leaving Malfoy's voice drifted out of the study room, "Do take care of things, won't you?"

Hermione pretended not to see the tiny shudder which ran through Theodore as he replied with a simple affirmative.

Together they left Pansy and Malfoy to their ever-present arguments, and headed across the courtyard to the other study rooms. Hermione looked up at Nott, making sure her arm was linked into his, and asked, "What were you doing in there? With her?" She really wanted to ask about Malfoy's letter, but acting jealous was much more in keeping.

"Pansy?" Nott gave a harsh, very unkind, laugh, "She's nothing. Thinks she owns all of us, but really can't get a date to save her life." Something about that sentence seemed to sober him. It sobered Hermione too, though she tried not to let it show. Without an antidote the 'dosed' Hermione would die by eleven tomorrow morning. "Hermione, about earlier?"

"Yes?" she said, absently hopeful.

"It's alright, y'know. Snape catches us the whole time. Though he doesn't normally take points," he said, scratching his head. Snape had been acting a little odd.

"Maybe its because you're with me. I know he doesn't like me much," Hermione said, wondering exactly how much of that was true, "But let's not talk about him. Where were we before we were interrupted?"

-HG-

Their idle walk, punctuated with dusty corridors, took them back to a corridor between the two towers of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw just before curfew. Hermione had tried her hardest to get Nott to talk about Malfoy's letter, but he was remarkably resistant to questioning.

Finally they stopped near Gryffindor, and Hermione knew that she would have to do something drastic, something in keeping with the potion she was supposed to have taken; otherwise she would never find out who the culprit was, and she would have to act dead by lunch. Since she didn't think velvet looked good on her, she took hold of that Gryffindor courage again and said something she never thought she'd say.

"You don't have to...go. I mean-"

"I rather think your friends would take offence if I walked into the Gyrffindor common room," Nott said with a small smile.

"I don't mean... I know where there are..." Hermione stuttered, turning a beautiful shade of pink. She took another breath and swallowed, "The unused guest quarters are not far from here. We could..."

She slid to a halt again. She just couldn't say it herself. She knew that the Heartsease Potion would have made her desperate to do this - especially with the added lime blossom - but without it Hermione was finding it awfully difficult to suggest...doing it.

She was so involved in her struggle with her modesty that she didn't see the look come over Theodore's face. At first it was a satisfaction, the look of a happy cat, then trouble wormed its way into his eyes. He wasn't sure he could do this. Over the last day Granger had gone from Potter's know-it-all friend to Hermione, intelligent and principled (if unpure) witch. Yet she was so besotted due to that damnable potion that she was throwing those principles away. If he did this, this task that he was supposed to do, he wasn't sure if he could look her in the eye again. And although that wasn't supposed to be an issue after all was done, there was a deeper feeling. Theodore wasn't sure that he'd be able to look _himself_ in the eye again.

"Hermione," he began, then shook his head, placed an oddly demure kiss on her forehead, and finished, "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning. Entrance Hall."

He gave her a last look then turned around and strode away.

Hermione watched him go with an expression of shook and bewilderment. Suddenly she realised her mouth was open and she shut in with a snap, and looked around. There was no one in sight. Feeling a little weird she trundled back to Gryffindor.

Lying on her bed, alone, she wondered at her feelings. She hadn't wanted to go through with the Potion's plan, but now that she had been denied, turned down, she felt...odd. It wasn't like she was ready, she reasoned, and he was one of the last people she want to be her first. But still... she felt... there was no other word for it... disappointed.

-HG-

Nott slouched down to the dungeons, planning on spending the night in one of the empty classrooms. He knew enough magic to whip up a decent bed and lock the door securely. No one need ever know of his sudden bout of morals. And when Malfoy or the benefactor asked, well, he'd lie. Hermione would never contradict him, she was far too far gone.

"Nott."

He looked up from his shoelaces at his name, drawn as much by the venom in the speaker's voice as by the sound. Standing, arms crossed, wands drawn, right in his way, were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Brilliant," he muttered, "Just brilliant."

"We'd like a word with you, Nott," said Weasley, the more volatile of the two.

"What exactly is going on between you and Hermione?" Potter asked, holding his wand low but ready.

"I really don't think that's any of your business," Nott said coolly, sliding a hand into his pocket.

"We really think it is," Weasley shot back.

"We're her friends. We look out for her," seconded Potter.

Nott's gaze flicked between the pair, trying to decide if this was a fight worth having. He'd heard odd things about Potter; rumours of fights with basilisks, dementors, and the Dark Lord. Merlin knew there was something hinky about the scar-head and his merry band of Gryffindors. Could he take them? Did he have a choice?

"Clearly you haven't been looking very well if you didn't see this coming," he stated, slipping his wand from his pocket and discretely casting a muffling charm. It wouldn't do for Professor Snape to hear the oncoming altercation.

"There wasn't anything to see coming," Weasley declared, "You dirty Slytherin, you've slipped her a love potion or something."

Nott deliberately didn't jerk or look astonished, instead he sneered, "Like I'd need a love potion with such excellent examples of manliness around her. Is that what this is about, Weasel, did I steal your girl? Not that you ever had the courage to ask her."

With a cry, Weasley launched himself across the intervening space, stung by the insult to his courage. Nott had been expecting this and, rather than meeting the attack head on, he smoothly stepped to one side, allowing Weasley to go crashing to the floor. Then his wand was up and fending off the soliloquy of spells from Potter.

He really was a good wizard, perhaps even deserving of his reputation. And with Weasley lifting himself up behind him, Theodore had to end this fight fast. Aiming, not at Potter but at the ground beneath his feet, Nott cast a tricky little transfiguration, and soon Potter was sinking into quicksand.

"Protego," Nott incanted as a fiery red glow burst from Potter's wand, then he turned and cast the leg-lock jinx at Weasley. Not as quick off the mark as his scarred friend, Weasley went back down with a thump. A quick smile lit Nott's features, then he was dancing off down the corridor, out of the range of any further spells. As the saying went: 'He that fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.'


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

**Heart's Ease**

_It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;_

_Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,_

_And smooth as monumental alabaster._

_Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men._

_Put out the light, and then put out the light:_

_Othello, Act 5, Scene 2_

The morning dawned bright and clear, though rain was forecast for later. Hermione had never felt less like getting up. It was Sunday, and usually the one day of the week she allowed herself to lie in. But today was also the day she was supposed to die. Groaning mentally she threw back the covers and hunted around for something decent to wear. What did one wear to ones funeral?

Theodore Nott was waiting in the entrance hall, just as he had promised last night. It took Hermione a second to find the right adoring mindset towards the guy who'd turned her down and was now about to let her die. Once she had she practically skipped towards him and greeted him with a loving kiss.

"Shall we go for a walk?" he asked quietly.

She nodded exuberantly, and they wandered out into the sunshine. Hermione did not fail to notice Malfoy and his retinue waiting outside, nor that they began to follow once she and Nott emerged.

As they passed the greenhouses and the shadow of the forest began to block out the sun, Hermione asked, "Where are we going?"

"Not long now," Theodore replied, barely looking where he was going.

"Theodore..." Hermione said a little nervously. She'd heard stories from Harry and Ron about their experiences in the Forbidden Forest, plus it was the Forbidden Forest.

"Don't worry," Nott glanced behind him for a moment, then pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "Just trust me and everything will be fine."

Hermione looked at him, the worry growing like sour dough in her stomach, and saw a moment of concern in his eyes too. "Okay," she whispered.

The branches came down close, making the trees seem curious and threatening. Hermione shivered and pulled her thin cloak around her. The very air seemed to have chilled under the leaning trees, and she stepped lightly so as not to wake whatever unnatural forces lay dormant here.

"Theodore," she said again, this time with a touch more trepidation in her voice.

"Another couple of yards," he muttered.

She shivered again, hoping that one of the shadows she could see in the corner of her eye was Professor Snape; that she wasn't alone out here with a load of vindictive Slytherins.

When they emerged in the clearing Malfoy and the others were right on their heels, and Hermione clutched at Nott's arm. She could have stood up for herself, but thought it best to continue playing the part...for now.

"Is it done?" Malfoy asked, casting a leering look at Hermione, "Is she...deflowered?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say something vile to him, her cheeks burning, but Nott cut in, squeezing her hand unnoticeably.

"Yes," he said simply.

Hermione blinked, and snapped her mouth shut. He'd lied. Theodore Nott, Slytherin, had lied for her sake. It was... utterly incomprehensible.

"Good," Malfoy said, and looked over at where an old yew was bowed to the floor. From under the curving branches a dark cloaked figure stepped forward and held out a tiny vial. Malfoy nodded in a very restrained manner, one that made Hermione very nervous about who was under that cloak.

"Here," Malfoy said, thrusting the vial at Hermione with a sneer.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, turning to Theodore.

He swallowed imperceptibly, and said, "An antidote."

"An antidote to what?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't shake. They weren't going to kill her! But what on earth could they - and the mysterious benefactor - want instead?

"A love potion," answered Nott.

"But I haven't taken a love potion," Hermione protested, "I...love you because I love you. I would know if-"

"No, Hermione, you wouldn't," Theodore gave a tiny pained smile, and pressed her hands together, "Look, you know that taking an antidote only has an effect if you've taken a potion."

"Of course."

"Then it doesn't matter if you take it. Now."

Hermione frowned, looking confused as she suspected she would when presented with this scenario under Heartsease's effect, but feeling totally confused. Why would they dose her with the potion only to remove her from it before she kicked the bucket? What happened when someone took an antidote to this particular potion. Hermione felt her brain kicking into gear, the same way it did when she was faced with a unexpected exam question, and then the answer came to her.

"But-" she protested feebly, not really meaning it any more.

"Please, Hermione," Theodore said, ignoring the snort from Malfoy.

"Alright," she agreed, and tentatively accepted the potion. Preparing herself for the next scene she popped the cork and threw back the potion. A blank look came over her face, and she tried to think of nothing. Then she blinked, rubbed her face, stumbled back a bit and looked around in growing horror.

Nott stepped forwards, hand unconsciously outstretched in case she fell.

"Get away from me!" she yelped, looking angry and terrified all at the same time. Never had her acting skills been tested further. She had to pretend to have awakened with all her memories intact - including the fact that she had been duped. "You, you...bastard!" she cried, not really meaning it in her heart. "How could you do that do me!"

A low laugh from the cloaked figure stopped her growing rant, and she turned to face this mysterious agent who had caused the last twenty-four hours of weirdness. "Who the hell are you?" she snapped, her wand flying into her hand.

"Oh, you know me I think, dear Herm-own-ninny."

Hermione's eyes widened as she recognised the voice, and then the face as Victor Krum threw back his fur lined hood and glowered at her.

"Victor?" she whispered, "What? You- you're responsible for all this? Making me drink that potion? Making me-" she half turned back to Theodore before blanching at the thought of what might have happened, "Why?"

"You betrayed me," he said simply, his hand tightening round his staff.

"What?"

"Ve had something, Herm-own-ninny. Then your letters all became dedicated to him. That Veasley boy."

"Ron?" she said, perplexed. "But Victor, we, you and I, we were never together. We were never in a relationship. I thought you understood; we were only ever friends."

"Friends? Did you think that vas all it vas? I vould let you go?" Krum said with a sneer, and suddenly Hermione saw him not how he had been - a Quidditch star unused to his fame, thrust into the limelight of the Triwizard Tournament - but how he really was. Long black hair curled at his nape, duck-curved shoulders had straightened, and there was a look in his eye that reminded her forcefully that Durmstrang taught the Dark Arts not just Defence of them. This was an adult wizard, angry, betrayed, and very dangerous.

"Let me go? I'm not some object-" Hermione sputtered, drawing herself up in indignation, but Krum wasn't listening.

"I vas not sure how to punish you. The potion, I am thinking - taking from you vhat you vould not give villing to me - makes a good start," he said, taking a step towards her.

"Punish," she repeated, then gave a little confident smile."Well that didn't work. I didn't take it. I've been acting... the whole time."

"I am doubting that. But it does not matter. I haff learnt other vays of dealing vith you," Victor said threateningly, dismissing her claim with a wave of his staff.

"Victor..." Hermione trailed off uncertainly. She was stuck in the middle of the Forbidden Forest with a mad dark wizard and a load of Slytherins. Wasn't this Harry's game?

"Haff you heard of the Medusa Curse?" he asked.

Hermione backed off, only to find four Slytherins at her back with foul and gleeful looks on their faces. She shook her head; naturally she'd read the Greek Myths, but she'd never heard of the snake-haired Medusa being associated with a curse.

"For you, it is most appropriate I think," Krum mused, eyeing her frizzy hair before turning his attention to his staff. He began to drum it on the ground in an unusual pattern, whispering uncaught words as he did. Hermione trembled, her wand in hand but unsure what to do. She couldn't run - they'd only catch her - and fighting would only end up with her in the same situation minus her wand.

"Help," she muttered, not expecting a response.

A glow was building up around Krum's staff now, a green mottled stream that seemed to hiss and contort strangely as it grew. With a last muttered word he cast out the spell, pointing his staff directly at Hermione. She threw up her wand, yelling the shield spell without much hope, and covered her eyes with her arms.

There was a magical explosion, wind racing through the trees, and when she lowered her arms she thought she'd gone blind. Then she blinked and realised she was looking at the back of a black cloak.

"Mr Krum, what an unexpected... pleasure," sneered Snape.

"Snape! Karkaroff told me of you. He said ve vere on the same side," Krum said, confused and gleeful. His spell had been thwarted, but here was someone who would help him show the traitorous girl true punishment.

"That is doubtful. I am certainly not on your side," Snape said, raising an elegant eyebrow, "Because you are on no-one's side but your own."

"I vill be having my revenge!" cried Victor.

"Heartbreak is never easy, but you will get over it," assured Snape.

"Never!" Victor yelled and burst into a blaze of spells.

Hermione jumped, glad she was behind Snape as the two duelled. It was easy to see why so many feared Snape - he was fending Krum off with relative ease. She turned as a growl caught her ears. Pansy was snarling gracelessly, her wand clutched in her hand.

"If he can't do it, I will!" she said wildly, and cast at Hermione.

The bushy-haired girl moved swiftly out of the way, putting up a shield as the rest of Malfoy's crew began to focus their attention on her rather than the spectacular duel going on around them. Hermione backed up, trying to get her footing on the uneven ground. Suddenly her foot caught in a hole and she fell awkwardly. Her shield fell and once again she feared the oncoming tide of magic.

Then, "Bother," she heard from behind her, and a shield went up. Craning her neck she saw Theodore standing over her, his wand out and a sour expression on his face.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Um. Fine," she said, pulling herself up, "Thanks."

"Please don't mention it," he said in a pained voice.

Now there were two of them against Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Malfoy. The two hulking boys were taken care of fairly early on. Simple jinxes they didn't have the reaction times to block turned one into a stiff plank and the other to a jelly-legged mess. Pansy and Draco on the other hand were more dedicated, and intelligent, adversaries.

Spells flew back and forth, the clearing becoming choked with magic. Trees backed away, trying to get their branches out of the lines of fire, shedding needles and pine cones over everyone. Singed resin and burnt brambles made the air thick with an ochre smell, and a lot of ducking commenced.

Yet within a short space of time Snape had tied up Krum with a neat bow, and confiscated his staff with a withering comment. Pansy had run off shrieking at the sight of illusory tarantulas in her hair, and Malfoy was sulking silently. There wasn't much else he could do as Nott had removed his voice, and his wand.

"I think, Miss Granger," said Professor Snape, with a heartfelt nod from Theodore, "That you are more trouble than you are worth."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters, places, and indices contained within are the creative property of J. . No infringement intended. This story is not for profit.

Additional: All quotes at the beginning of chapters belong to plays by Shakespeare.

**Heart's Ease**

_O mistress mine, where are you roaming?_

_O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,_

_That can sing both high and low:_

_Trip no further, pretty sweeting;_

_Journeys end in lovers meeting,_

_Every wise man's son doth know._

_Twelfth Night, Act Two, Scene Three_

When it was all over Hermione realised that there was still one thing that needed to be done. Malfoy and his gang had been disciplined by Professor Dumbledore, and letters sent home to their parents. Krum had been shipped off to the Ministry to sit in a cell while the International Law Dept decided who was responsible for him. Harry and Ron had had the situation explained to them, and Hermione had put up with their exclamations of missing a good fight (and supporting her).

It had been a week since then, and Hermione had finally decided that she couldn't put off the question any longer. Hunting outside near the lake and around the greenhouses she finally found the person she was searching for.

Theodore had been avoiding everyone. Helpfully everyone had been avoiding him. His sudden bout of morals in helping Hermione win against Malfoy and his cronies had put him in a sticky situation within Slytherin. Now he was seen as not totally one of them, or possibly the sneakiest Slytherin in history. They were undecided.

Hermione found him sitting with his back against the warm brick wall outside the least used greenhouse. He was supposedly studying, but having his eyes closed was probably a hindrance to that plan.

"Um," she began, inarticulately, "Hi."

He opened his eyes and blinked at her silhouette against the sunny sky. "Hi," he responded non-committally.

"Can I... have a word?" Hermione asked.

Nott shrugged, "Sure."

Seating herself on the grass she plucked a piece from the ground and played with it, not looking up at him as she spoke. "I wanted to ask you about what happened. You know I didn't take that potion, and, er, why I had to act. It wasn't really my idea, but, um. Anyway, I just wanted to know something."

"Yes," he encouraged, smiling a little at her rambling.

"Why?" she asked tensely, finally looking him in the eye. There was a desperation to her tone that was not wholly due to intellectual curiosity, and he looked down, fiddling with the edge of his book.

"I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. After everything that had happened, everything you'd done. When you broke that enchantment you changed everything. You destroyed an entire way of life without a thought," Nott looked up with a fiery voice and added bitterly, "And now we have to pay the house elves for what they were happy to do."

"But they were slaves," Hermione protested.

Theodore nodded, not really conceding the point but willing to listen. Then he put his book aside and asked her, "Do you know how it happened?" He paused waiting for her response, and she shook her head. He nodded again, this time knowingly, as if he had thought that that particular story hadn't reached her.

"It was the seventeenth century, the Witchfinders were out in force and we were having to hide. Not just ourselves but everything magical. so we bound the house elves to our families, not to make them work for us, but to keep them safe, so they wouldn't stray outside the world we were creating and end up in the hands of the muggles," he explained. He gave her a shrewd look and asked rhetorically, "How many house elves have you known, Hermione? I had a house elf, her name was Trixie. She looked after me, practically brought me up after my mum died. She kept me safe and happy. Now I have to pay her, and... it's not the same."

He ran his hands through his hair and spoke quietly, "We all have to pay, and every pureblood family is suffering. We're not as rich as you might think. When you destroyed that enchantment you rocked the economy of the wizarding world - we have to pay the staff we had for free."

"But you enslaved them," Hermione pressed.

"Yes. And that was probably wrong, but it was how the system worked. If you wanted to change that... there were other ways. More subtle, less... dramatic, less devastating. You did it without warning," Nott said, a tinge of pain in his eyes. He knew she was a Gryffindor, but she was also a Muggleborn and totally unable to see the confusion she had thrown the wizarding world into. Being outside it meant she was outside it; able to see the flaws but feeling none of the consequences. He turned back to her and tried to answer her original question. Why had he gone along with the plan. He sighed and said, "Really, it comes down to the fact that you hurt my way of life, my family. You hurt me. I guess I wanted... retribution."

"Oh. I- I understand," Hermione said, unsure that she really did but feeling a little odd. To hear about the Pureblood world like that was totally different than reading about it, or hearing about the Slytherin families from Ron. She dropped the twisted blades of grass she had mangled and blushed slightly as she said, "But, er, that wasn't what I was asking. I wanted to know... why did you lie? To Malfoy and Krum."

"Ah, oh. Er," Nott said monosyllabically. He looked a bit sheepish as he added more coherently, "Can we call it a bad bout of morals and leave it at that?" As she shook her head he shrugged and pondered aloud, "I didn't think so. I suppose I got to know you, and, well, for a muggleborn, you're... you're not so bad."

"Thanks," Hermione said quietly, fighting against the heat in her cheeks. She sat for a moment longer, absorbing all he'd told her, then she got up saying, "I'd better..."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, picking up his book again and staring at it moodily. She was starting to move off when he added nonchalantly, "If you wanted, we could study together sometime. If you wanted."

Hermione swallowed and turned back, looking at him sitting there, legs out, book balanced on them. He seemed very different to the boy she'd seen when she'd opened her eyes. And she felt herself saying, "Maybe."

She walked slowly back to the castle, thinking hard about all the changes both large and small that had occurred, and about how most of the little ones were totally unexpected. A smile crept onto her face as she wondered exactly how Ron and Harry would take a friendship with Nott, maybe some things never changed.

So involved in her thoughts was she that she failed to spot the dark pair of eyes watching the spring come back into her step as she walked. Snape hovered for a while, uncertain of his own in-flux feelings as she went her way. Then finally he turned and vanished back into the cool dark of the dungeons, muttering as he went.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

**The End**


End file.
